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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25937701">Fault, Guilt and Blame</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninhursag/pseuds/ninhursag'>ninhursag</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Old Guard (Movie 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blasphemy, Filthy and sad, M/M, Rough Oral Sex, War</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:55:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>879</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25937701</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninhursag/pseuds/ninhursag</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Nicolo and Yusuf meet in blood and filth at the gates of Jerusalem. God won't have them so they have to improvise.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>128</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Fault, Guilt and Blame</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa," Nicolo whispered in prayer into the skin of the man that had killed him some hours ago. More than once. Brought his body down with a scimitar at the gates of Jerusalem. Parted skin and flesh and entrails.</p><p>God willed it. God willed that the gates of heaven and hell would stay starkly shut and that his servant would not pass. No death for Nicolo.</p><p>No death for his killer either.</p><p>The man who slew Nicolo stank of blood and metal, body and beard and he stared down unwavering, eyes dark.</p><p>"What are you sorry for?" the infidel hissed and opened his trousers. "The fortunes of war? Being a godless Frank?"</p><p>He had an unwavering dick too, this man who Nicolo had slain, proud and hard and poking out of his trousers. It was cut of the foreskin, the way the infidels did it. One rumor that was true about the saracens, it seemed, that they mutilated themselves in this way. </p><p>"Are you sorry for being a lousy cocksucker?" The infidel continued, eyes rolling. His Greek was very good, better than Nicolo's, it sounded warm on his tongue. Dirty. </p><p>Nicolo glared at him, "as if you would know."</p><p>The man's laughter was warm too. "I will write you a recommendation if you're any good. In Latin, so your fellow degenerates can read it. If any of them can read at all."</p><p>Nicolo shifted forward, lips parted, almost tasting it.  He was, in fact, a very good cocksucker, well trained under monastic rule, learning the art in his fellow's bunks at night while he learned to write in a steady hand and speak Greek and argue about the glories of God and his son and his saints.</p><p>But he was far from there now, under the banner of the cross. Deus vult, the pope said, from his throne. God wants safe passage for his flock, his pilgrims.</p><p>That was how Nicolo came to be here, because he had listened and come, with the armies of Christendom. God willed him to be slain in the dirt of the holy land, his pilgrim's blood to stain the walls of Jerusalem.</p><p>So he was.</p><p>Now, God willed him on his knees, mail and linen filthy with battle mud, grabbing onto the hips of his enemy and sucking him in.</p><p>The infidel groaned and went in deep and hard and Nicolo took it. Mea culpa, for the bodies in the dirt, the damn Jews and the damned Saracens, gone to hell for the unbaptized, the women and the little ones and the old when Jerusalem fell. When Nicolo fell and came back alive.</p><p>"A very good recommendation, you'd be the best harlot in the brothel," the infidel told him, hips thrusting in as far as Nicolo would allow. And Nicolo did allow it all, to the balls, half gasping, choking, sucking in air when it drew back, spit and drool and heaving breath.</p><p>Whimpering for more of it when the other drew away. Staring down at him again with some unfathomable thing in his eyes, cursing in a language Nicolo didn't understand. Nicolo shook his head, hands scrabbling even as he sucked in air.</p><p>"I'm not going to kill you with my cock," the infidel muttered. "I've got a sword for that."</p><p>"I'm going to kill you with something if you don't let me finish," Nicolo told him in return. He licked his lips, tasting saliva and the heaviness of precome. It wasn't good and he wanted more.</p><p>"As you would," was the hissed reply. And Nicolo took him in again, gentler this time, slow enough to get his tongue in. He felt nothing, not the ache of his knees, not the stench of the battlefield just over the hills, not the fire and ruin of the holy city.</p><p>It was fast still, blood humming. He put his hands on himself, into his own trousers, chafing and filthy palms to fuck against while he swallowed the enemy down deep. He came and it was just more filth. Unregarded against what truly stained him.</p><p>They were both alive. Capable of pleasure. Others were not.</p><p>"Mea culpa, for me and this infidel, who you have barred from death," he whispered, hoarse, half ruined on his knees on this blood watered Earth. Here unless God relented and would have him. </p><p>The other man stared at him, chest still heaving, body still shaking with release. "I'll forgive you, but God will make his own will known. Just remember, my name is Yusuf, not infidel."</p><p>And Nicolo watched him and shrugged. "I appreciate it." He held still a moment. "Will you stay here?"</p><p>And Yusuf frowned. There was blood and guts on his beard, matting it. Only some of it must have come from Nicolo. "No. Will you come with me?"</p><p>Nicolo laughed. "God certainly seems to have willed it."</p><p>God willed it again, beside a dusty abandoned village well, where Yusuf took his own turn on Nicolo's cock.</p><p>"And what do you say? Is my tongue more talented than that of a Frank?" Yusuf asked him afterwards, smirking with amusement.</p><p>"I will write you a recommendation," Nicolo allowed, though he didn't think he'd bother. Maybe he'd keep this one to himself</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Your comments and kudos bring me much joy ♥️</p></blockquote></div></div>
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